Chicago House (www.chicagohouse.org)
From Chicago House Blog
Chicago House and Social Service Agency serves individuals and families who are disenfranchised by HIV/AIDS, LGBTQ marginalization, poverty, homelessness, and/or gender nonconformity by providing housing, employment services, medical linkage and retention services, HIV prevention services, legal services, and other supportive programs.
A Wife in Vegas
Chelsea’s head was throbbing. She groaned, shifting under the coarse sheet. Wait. Sheet? Blinking bleary eyes, Chelsea tried to get a grip on her surroundings. She sucked in a lungful of motel air and coughed, her throat raw. What did I do last night She dropped her head back to the pillow, grimacing because she really didn’t want to know the last time it was washed. This is the last time I get wasted on vacation. She snorted, and winced as a sharp stab of pain reminded her that she’d had too much to drink and not nearly enough food to absorb it.
There was a soft snick, the pad of footsteps, and Chelsea turned her head to see Morgan Dunhill with a tray full of stomach churning food, a smile on her road face. “Good to see you’re awake,” Morgan whispered, settling the tray on the side table before sitting herself at the edge of the bed near Chelsea’s hip.
“What happened?” The words came out jumbled, her head throbbing even harder while her stomach rolled, but Morgan seemed to understand.
“Uhm…” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, her jaw moving as she worried the pale pink flesh. “We got drunk.”
Chelsea glared, huffing as her short brown hair fell over her face, obscuring her vision. She was tempted to leave it, but a hesitant hand reached forward, brushing the hair from Chelsea’s eyes. “Thanks.”
Morgan shrugged, her lip popping out of her mouth then going right back in.
“What else happened?” Chelsea asked, deciding she might as well attempt to eat something, and leveraged herself into a sitting position that her stomach was not happy with. “Ugh… Never let me drink like that again.”
“Okay,” Morgan whispered, her face averted.
That’s when Chelsea noticed that she was naked. Normally, with a pretty woman in her room, Chelsea wouldn’t have minded her state of undress, would have even flirted, but Morgan was her sister’s friend, and Chelsea had learned long ago not to go after a friend of the family. Sighing, she pulled the sheet up, wrapping it around herself, then reaching for the cup of fizzy soda. Bless Morgan, she knew Chelsea well. Taking a sip, Chelsea eyed Morgan. For someone who got drunk, she didn’t look it. Her shoulder-length blond hair was in a messy ponytail, her makeup light, and her clothes without a wrinkle.
“So, what happened?” Maybe she should invest in a parakeet if she’d be repeating herself.
Morgan sucked on her lip, still not looking at Chelsea. “Uhm…” Her wide blue eyes darted toward Chelsea then quickly away.
Her head hurt too much for this. “Hey.” She leaned over, cupping Morgan’s cheek in her hand and turned her so Morgan had no choice but to look at her. “What did I do?” She could admit it, she did stupid things when she was drunk.
Maybe they should both invest in parakeets.
“I… We…” Morgan heaved a sigh and stood.
Staring, more than a little confused and wishing she could return to sleep, Chelsea let her hand fall to her lap. Morgan moved over to a pair of pants flung over the back of a chair, stains darkening the front.
Those are mine. Chelsea winced. If she threw up, that would explain why she was naked. Not why she was in what had to be Morgan’s motel room, but she could wait. She sipped some more of her ginger ale, glad for the soda, and watched Morgan fiddle with a piece of paper. She suddenly sucked in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and marched over to Chelsea, thrusting the paper at her.
Okaaay…Chelsea took the paper, unfolded it, and stared. At first she had no clue what she was looking at, but then, as her brain caught up with the words she was reading, Chelsea realized what she’d done. Her sister was going to kill her.
“So…we’re married?” Chelsea asked, just to clarify. No chance I’m still sleeping?
“Yes,” Morgan squeaked out.
Chelsea glanced up, her heart constricting at the sight of Morgan, her lip back between her teeth, her face flushed red, and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Oh, honey.” Chelsea reached forward, snagging Morgan’s wrist, and dragged her onto the bed, curling an arm across Morgan’s shoulders as her body trembled and shuddery sobs left her.
“I’m…” Morgan took a gasping breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“No.” Morgan shook her head against Chelsea’s shoulder and tried to pull back, but Chelsea wouldn’t let her. “I knew we were drunk, but…but I was so happy when you proposed. I’ve always liked you.” She gasped and wrenched herself away.
The shock of those words slackened Chelsea’s grip enough that Morgan was able to pull away. “What?” There was no way Morgan, sweet, funny, full of sunshine Morgan would like Chelsea. Yet, the look of devastation on Morgan’s face told a different story. “Since when?”
She gripped Morgan’s chin and forced her to raise her head, to look into Chelsea’s eyes. There was a mix of emotions in Morgan’s blue eyes. Her lips were more an angry red now than the pink Chelsea was used to.
“I was attracted to you the first time your sister introduced us, and then as time went on and I got to know you I…” Her gaze darted away.
“Well.” Chelsea cleared her throat, then did what she’d wanted to do after the first time she’d heard Morgan laugh. She kissed her. Morgan gasped, and Chelsea was tempted to push her tongue into that inviting mouth, but she resisted. Morgan closed her lips against Chelsea and for a bit it was an awkward press of lips, neither of them seeming to know what to do.
Then Morgan surprised Chelsea by pressing closer, realigning their lips until they fit together in a perfect kiss.
They pulled apart as if of mutual accord and stared. Chelsea giggled. The strangeness of the situation was too funny. Plus, she was nervous. She’d never been married before, but now she was, and she’d never seen her wife naked before.
“What’s so funny?” A small splash of color filled Morgan’s cheeks, and Chelsea leaned in for another kiss.
She couldn’t help but think Morgan was too adorable for her own good. “We’re married and we’ve never dated.” She giggled again. Then her own words sank in and immediately sobered her up. “Do you want to date me?”
That flush darkened, spreading down Morgan’s neck. “We’re married, aren’t we?”
Chelsea took Morgan’s hands between her own. “Yes, but I need to know if you want to date me. We can see how this works. Maybe for a year? If either of us decides we can’t be with the other, then we can walk away.” Chelsea wasn’t sure she’d want to walk away. To have Morgan as her wife… She was too good. Even the few bad parts of Morgan were better than most of the good in Chelsea.
“Are you proposing again?” Morgan asked, a hitch to her breath as tears filled her eyes again.
“Yes.” And this time Chelsea was sober. A little hung over, but sober and coherent and she hoped Morgan would say yes.
Morgan nodded her head. “Okay.”
“Okay?” What had Chelsea ever done to deserve such a wonderful person?
“Uh-huh.” Morgan was still nodding her head. Then she stopped. “What about your family?”
Chelsea waved a hand. “Don’t worry about them.” She reached out and snagged Morgan around the waist. With a laugh she dragged Morgan onto the bed with her, a happy smile stretching her lips to the point her cheeks hurt as Morgan shrieked and giggled. “We’ll work everything out between the two of us.”
“All right,” Morgan said and snuggled in close. “What do you want to do today?”
Chelsea hugged Morgan close. “Probably take a shower and get dressed. Then I want to spend the day getting to know my wife.” She loved the way Morgan flushed even redder and turned her face away with a shy smile on her lips.
For the first time since she’d come to Vegas, Chelsea was enjoying her vacation.